A Drop of Glass

I padded softly across the low table, drawn by a faint gurgle. A tall glass carafe stood catching the evening lamp. Through the clear curve, water trembled quietly like a tiny captive pool. Right beside it, a smooth glass marble rested in a wooden groove. I approached without a rush, sitting on my haunches. With both paws, I carefully rolled the cool marble against the carafe's base. It tapped with a soft, hollow chime that echoed into the room. I waited, watching the water ripple outward, perfectly content.